


The First Snow Queen

by theragingstorm



Category: Frozen (2013), Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Gen, Mythology - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Slight alterations to local lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"On the darkest, coldest night of the year, a goddess raged and cursed a newborn girl," or the story of how, at birth, Elsa's life was permanently changed forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Snow Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to incorporate Norse lore into the world of Frozen, and as I lay awake late last night, this kind of happened.

On the darkest, coldest night of the year, something new and unanticipated came into the world. As it did, deep within the rocky mountain wilderness that stretched across the land, someone felt this happen.

While the wild beasts hid in their caves, the humans battened down their shutters and prayed, and even the mighty Aesir huddled in their great hall to escape the rage of the blizzards...

She smiled, reveling in the winter. For she was its queen. And now there was some new magical being to share the power of the cold with her.

Finally, a new god or goddess, after all those tiresome centuries of monotheism.

She remembered those days of being venerated. Before, they had called her Jotunn. In her prime, they had called her goddess. Now, if they remembered her at all they called her Snow Queen; a faint memory of a childish fantasy, brought out of hiding by that pretentious Danish writer.

Her good mood was temporarily spoiled at this thought.

But no matter. She _and_ a new deity...? Imagine the power they would wield! The humans would _have_ to worship the old gods properly again.

Her slow smile returning, she slung her icy bow and arrows over her back and wrapped a white fur cloak over her glittering ice-mail. She slid her trusty skis onto her feet and flew down the mountain, much faster than any human could do without sliding on ice or running into a tree.

The wind, at her beckon, blew at her back; guiding her and increasing her speed. Wild beasts' eyes glowed curiously in the trees as she raced past them. A human would have only noticed a slight extra chill in the air.

Upon arriving in the city, she slid off her skis and threw them up into the air, watching them dissolve into more snowflakes. The silence -- except for the howling storm -- displeased her. No one was around to see her, even if they could.

With a sigh, she swept her hand in the turbulent air, wrapping a gust of violent wind around her body. Snowflakes slowed, kissing her cheeks instead of biting. Sharp ice particles swept into her hair, lovingly combing it out.

As this happened, she rose into the air, carried by the wind.

_Where are they?_

The winter storm eagerly brought her over the modest houses, across the fjord, over to the great stone hall -- _castle,_ the humans were calling it now -- that dominated the whole valley.

The spirits of winter must be as eager to see a new deity as she was.

The wind slowed as they rose high into the air, guiding her around the white-painted walls and balconies dripping with icicles. It finally stopped at a brightly lit window, with warm buttery light shining through its layer of frost.

With a tap of her finger, the frost dissolved. She peered into the room eagerly, a wide smile dominating her face. But when she saw the interior of that room, her excitement and delight changed to incredulity and rage.

On the other side of the window was a human woman lying in a stark white bed, naked and clearly exhausted. The human woman was surrounded by other women, fussing around her like hens. But what had captured her attention was what her senses insisted the magical being must be...the pale newborn infant lying in the human woman's arms.

This couldn't be right. This couldn't be true. Humans were almost never born with magic. Either it was given to them by a powerful being, or they brought magic onto themselves, or they died and were somehow reborn with it. The ones that were...they had relatively small powers. Not control over something as mighty as a whole season; something that was controlled only by a goddess!

Perhaps she was overreacting. Perhaps the girl wasn't fully human; descended from Jotunns, perhaps.

But no. She could sense the tang of full human blood in the infant. Not just any human blood: the royal blood of Arendelle, the blood of Christian reformers; weak and ignorant fools who'd cast magic and the old spirits out of their kingdom only to have it born into their line.

If she hadn't been so enraged, she would've laughed at the irony.

But this was serious. No mortal should have the power or the charmed life of a deity. Nor should they think themselves equal to one. Humans were all too nearsighted and greedy; never, ever using power wisely.

So she thought fast, and then she began to weave a spell. Daughter of frost giants, winter goddess, she had all the power of dark and cold. As she hissed her words in the old language, the infant stirred ever so slightly in her sleep.

_"I curse thee, winter-born human._

_You will never enjoy full agency over your powers._

_They will never be truly yours, as they never should have been._

_You will be forever doomed to have them tied to your emotions, out of the control of human logic and reason._

_Only true love can undo the effects of your powers."_

Here she allowed herself a lazy smirk. It was a pleasant lie that humans sold themselves, about true love.

_"Your life will be fraught with heartbreak and constant danger._

_Misery and fear will trail your steps._

_You will be pushed to the breaking point, over and over._

_Someday you will snap, and when you do, you will be unable to save yourself."_

_That_ should get rid of the uppity little mortal before she got any ideas.

_"I curse thee, winter-born human. For it goes against nature itself for a mortal to have the powers of immortals."_

She gave the still infant one last look of fear and contempt. Then she dissolved into snowflakes on the wind, carried by the storm back into the mountains.

But the other beings of magic felt her curse, felt it reverberate through the land and sky.

In a hidden valley, creatures of earth and stone felt their own destiny become tied to the one of the winter-born princess.

Deep in the warm insides of the earth, the spirits of heat and fire cursed the one heartless enough to deny an innocent joy and love.

_Princess, we will bring your salvation. We will give you the love that you will need. Your true love, the one who will save you, will be born in in the summer in three years' time._

Spinning and flying through the biting storm, the spirits of cold hissed in defiance of their mistress's cruelty to one of their own.

_Sister, we will grant you the joy you'll need in your magic. We will give you beauty and talent beyond compare. When you create with your powers, you will be one with the wind and sky itself._

On the darkest, coldest night of the year, a goddess raged and cursed a newborn girl. The elemental spirits breathed hope back into the cursed girl's life.

_We cannot protect you ourselves. But we can help you._

The newborn girl's eyes opened. Blue as the ice of a glacier's core; blue as a clear sky in winter. A tiny heart with the strength and warmth of summer itself.

_Winter-born human._

 

\--Fin--


End file.
